Behind the Mask
by serafina19
Summary: After a trying day, Liz turns to Ressler to help her move past the frustration she was feeling. Based around and shortly after the final scene in 1x20 "The Kingmaker." (AU)


_Sera's Scribbles: I abandoned this story because of how differently the writers took the following episode (heck the start of season 2), but with the last episode, I figured why not post it anyway._

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**Behind the Mask**

If the last year had taught Liz Keen anything, it was that it was hard to trust anyone. She got out of her car, frustrated at all of the lies that surrounded her. Standing in front of his building, she took a deep breath, almost in disbelief that there was still someone on this earth that she could trust. Someone that she knew wouldn't lie to her.

For once, her timing worked out, as a person leaving held the door open to let her inside. She knew that she had to keep moving, as being still led her to think too much, so she headed towards the stairwell, grateful for the echo of her shoes on the steps. However, it wasn't enough to keep her thoughts at bay.

_I'm one of the good guys_, Tom had told her.

It sure didn't feel that way. The way he talked about how he had her fooled, the way he insisted that he _had _her. She wasn't sure who Tom was anymore, but a _good guy _didn't exactly hit the mark. If nothing else, good guys don't have to admit they are good guys.

_Reddington, he's not who you think he is._

At least that much Tom had been right about. Even if it wasn't the first time Red had killed someone, she had let herself be fooled into thinking he actually cared about her. Again. It wasn't enough that Red spoke in riddles and that he would always hide things from her, but he had killed the only family Liz had known.

It didn't matter if Red thought he was doing the right thing, because he could have waited until Sam told her what he wanted to say. Instead, he selfishly ended her father's life, because in the end, Red only cared about himself and Liz was tired of trying to see it any other way.

_He'll be back._

Liz didn't have the heart to tell Ressler the truth earlier, but the way he could actually be optimistic about her marriage was kind of sweet. He likely had his suspicions, but he knew that Liz probably could use a win somewhere. Actually, between the two of them, they could probably both use a little bit of good news, but it didn't look like it was coming just yet.

For not too long ago, it was Ressler's life that felt like it was coming apart. Yet now, things almost felt like they were normal again. He did his job without complaint, his emotions weren't getting the best of him, nor did it seem like he had a death wish.

That didn't mean that there weren't differences, as it didn't take her years of profiling for Liz to realize that Ressler wasn't as cold to her anymore. It had taken a fair amount of traumatic events, but he had grown to actually look out for Liz, even cover her ass a few times.

He would usually ask for the truth first, but he didn't push her. Deep down, he probably knew it was only a matter of time before Liz would tell him. That time appeared to be tonight, as she stood in front of his door, knowing how strange this was. She really didn't want to bother anyone else with her problems, but Liz felt like she was running out of options. After knocking, she tried to figure out where to start when she heard his footsteps on the other side of the door.

That alone caused her brain to go completely blank, her eyes shutting before she sold her best poker face as his footsteps had paused. Liz tried to grin towards the direction of the peephole, not sure how much longer she could hide her frustration from him. As the door opened, she took note of his attire, the beer in his hand. Tempted to swallow hard for disturbing, Liz was able to hold it back, instead pursing her lips slightly when their eyes met.

"I didn't know where else to go," were the only words she trusted herself to say in the hallway.

He grinned before letting her in and closing the door. He knew something was bothering her and based on the time of night, Don was hopeful that this meant she was finally going to let him in, let him help.

Still facing away from him, Liz sighed as her gaze locked on the single light on in the main room. "I'm sorry for interrupting your night."

To her surprise, Don chuckled from behind her, causing Liz to look over her shoulder. "Considering that it consists of drinking beer and reading the newspaper, you're more than welcome to join me." He was tempted to smile as she fully turned, but instead, Don noticed that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. "The question is do you want the distraction or do you want to talk?"

That turned out to be a harder question to answer than Liz thought. She wanted to forget about all the shit in her life, but at the same time, she knew it wasn't going to change the fact that it existed. "All I can think about right now is that Reddington killed my father. And if I can ever forget that, I'm quickly reminded of the fact to my husband, I'm a target not a wife."

Don nodded, knowing that either way, she would likely need something to take the edge off. "Beer it is." He was tempted to ask whether she even _drank _beer, but when he didn't hear any objections, he went to his fridge, glad to see there was still one inside. Walking back to where she was, he passed it to her before holding his bottle up to hers. "Cheers."

Liz chinked her bottle against his, pulling it back for a sip. "How are you doing?"

"To be honest... better. I asked for a favour in the coroner's office and they got back to me tonight," he said. Don could see the confusion in her eyes, so he clarified, "I thought there was a chance that Audrey was pregnant when Takida shot her."

Realizing what he was trying to do, Liz said, "Don, you don't –"

"She wasn't, so I'm taking that as a blessing in disguise." It wasn't much, but the idea that only one life was lost in that shot provided a little comfort to Don. It didn't change the fact that Audrey was gone and she wasn't coming back, but the pain had become easier to bear.

Besides, he didn't mind telling her that now. It was probably a lot healthier talking to someone about this, and Liz had proved to be a great partner when it came to this stuff.

Hearing the calmness in his voice maintain, Liz grinned. "You do seem better."

He nodded. "What's done is done and I'd rather focus on helping others than dwelling."

"That's a good philosophy. I wish I could do the same right now." Liz sighed before taking a swig of beer. "I mean, is it wrong that I wish that you and I could switch our romantic tragedies? At least then I could trust who I am, I could... exist without feeling like my whole life is a lie."

"Maybe you can't trust your last name, but you can trust who you are." Her head popped up to look at him, wondering how he could say that. "Remember what you told Cooper that first day. Co-workers called you sir, you like relating to the criminal mind, but most importantly... you're not easily manipulated."

She leaned against his couch, trying to believe those words. "It sure doesn't feel like that anymore." Life was simpler then, life felt _normal_.

"And it's always darkest before the dawn, so take the couch, get a good night's sleep and start fresh tomorrow." Don was tempted to offer her his bed instead, as he knew that he could sleep on his couch just fine, but he figured she wouldn't take it. "At some point," he added, "you'll go home and things will get better. People may have let you down, but don't let them take who you are. Hate, revenge... it doesn't give you the peace you're looking for."

Eyebrows rising, Liz asked, "Speaking from personal experience?"

She knew the answer to that question, so Don replied, "Get some sleep, Liz. It's been a long day."

Because they weren't going to find the answers she wanted tonight, but letting this stew in her mind would do no one favours. They needed to have a clear mind tomorrow and while he felt sympathy for her situation, it couldn't be an excuse for doing the work they did. It also couldn't be a distraction for her, as Don had this feeling that he couldn't cover for her anymore.

**~0~**

Luckily, the next morning, they had run into a case. Reddington had gone silent, no doubt due to his recent encounter with Liz, but the task force was being brought in to an ongoing FBI investigation.

Once the debrief ended, Don warned Liz that Cooper was starting to get suspicious about her absences from the Post Office, so this case was important. However, that comment was met with a smile from his partner.

"_No Reddington, no Tom. Shouldn't be a problem."_

It really appeared to help lift her spirits, not having the pressures of her life pulling her down. Every now and then, there would be a small tell of her biting the inside of lip, hiding her thoughts of the men who were the source of her frustration, but otherwise, she seemed okay. Together, they had run down a few promising leads, and, with the help of Malik's CIA contacts, they were able to help break this case wide open.

In the end, their task force would never be credited with saving the day on paper, but this was something that Don knew that he and Liz both needed. That was probably why Cooper accepted the case off in the first place.

However, that didn't mean that Don was about to ignore the win. After hearing the news, he hung up his phone and walked over to Liz's office. "They neutralized the bomb," he told her. "It's over."

Before she looked up at him, Don saw Liz smile genuinely. It was small, but encouraging to see. "Thanks for telling me," she said.

"You did good work today, Keen. How about we celebrate at my place?"

"Look Ressler," she said as she pulled out her chair to stand up. "I appreciate you giving me the couch yesterday, but you're right. I need to go home, prove that I'm ready to stand on my own feet."

"I think you already are."

Liz rolled her eyes. "I mean –"

"I know what you mean," Don interjected. "My point still stands." She may have been knocked down a few pegs, but Elizabeth Keen was a tough customer and even she knew that she was tougher than she seemed right now. "Night Liz."

Shaking her head, Liz felt a smile slip through again, almost in disbelief that it was her partner that was making her smile this much. On the surface, Donald Ressler was the caricature that most people saw on cop shows. Tough, no-nonsense workaholic who doesn't have time for anyone else. But during the past month, she had begun to see more of his character, behind the façade he had worked so hard to ensure no one saw past.

She began to wonder if it was because she was a profiler, or his partner, that she saw him that way. Or because he treated her that way because she was his partner.

After a single laugh, Liz shook her head, realizing that it probably wasn't the best idea to continue profiling her partner. The only good that accomplished was further delaying Liz's drive home, no matter how wrong that word felt in association to the house she was going to drive to.

But she couldn't avoid it forever, so she waved goodbye to Meera and Aram before entering the elevator. Sure enough, when she got inside, Cooper was already there.

"Good job today, Agent Keen," Cooper said as the elevator doors closed. "I trust things are getting better at home."

It seemed that way, but Liz knew there was a long way to go. That's why she sold her best grin before looking up at Cooper. "One day at a time sir."

He nodded before turning his head back to face the elevator doors, which opened not long after their conversation ended. They bid each other goodnight and Liz got to her car, taking the long way home, trying to focus on the positives in her professional life instead of the mess of her personal life.

Or at least, that was before she found Donald Ressler sitting on her front steps, holding what looked like a bag from her favourite Chinese food restaurant. She opened her car door, her eyes narrowing at him before saying, "What are you doing here?"

Don grinned, standing up to better show the bag. "If memory serves… you can't cook, so I'm imposing on your space for the price of Chinese take-out." He could see her about to interject, to tell him that this wasn't necessary, but he beat her to speaking. "While standing on your own feet is great, that doesn't mean you have to do go through this alone."

He had a point there, something Liz showed through a slight tilt of her head. "Well," she said as she walked towards him, "I suppose I should eat."

"Great," he replied, walking behind her on the steps, arriving at the top step in time for Liz to open the door. "Let's…"

Seeing him pause in the entryway, Liz pursed her lips. "I apologize for the mess." Truth be told, she had forgotten about it, as she had focused more on the mind games than the physical one.

"Must have been quite the fight." Pointing towards the broken banister, Don glanced back at Liz. "Do I even want to know?"

_Probably not_, Liz thought, but she told him anyway. "The short version is that I made the rookie mistake of breaking his thumb while he was handcuffed. That led to me getting handcuffed there while Tom insisted that he never wanted to hurt me." Realizing that didn't exactly answer his question, she added, "I got impatient."

That comment got Ressler to laugh, but the lighter mood disappeared once he saw the state of the living room. Overturned coffee tables, broken glass galore, not to mention all of the fallen mementos of their marriage. "Huh."

"Yeah, I didn't really have a chance to clean up yet," Liz said, as every time she tried, all she could think of was the look on Tom's face when the jig was up. That, or the fact that Reddington knew and went out of his way to not tell her.

Walking past Don, Liz picked up a frame that was on the floor, something that had been thrown down in the ground in frustration long after the fight. Placing it on the one shelving unit that hadn't been disturbed, Liz sighed.

"Is it wrong that I want Tom to be truly gone?" She knew that the room said otherwise, that her recent behavior said otherwise, but that was the truth that Liz was holding back from even herself. "As much as I want him to pay, as many times that I ask Reddington where he is… I just want this to be over and move on."

"Look, I don't know the full story, but I think at this point... it's only over when you believe it is," Don replied, leaning down to pull up a lamp that had fallen over. He walked over to the wall, unplugging it before taking out what remained of the broken light bulb. Picking up a few of the fragments on the floor, Don moved into the kitchen to dispose of the shards in his hand.

"Where are your light bulbs?"

The whole time, Liz was still staring at the frame. Still in a slight trance, she replied, "Utility closet just outside the kitchen." Turning around, Liz took note of the lamp that was now upright. "I think that lamp is a 120 volt."

"Thanks," he called out. "I found them."

Liz then turned her focus to the lamp, the one that she had turned over to find the key that started providing answers about her sham marriage. That lamp had been the one thing her and Tom had owned in the beginning. The one thing they used to try and save the marriage. Part of her had half a mind to throw the damn thing out the door.

However, her thoughts were quickly transferred to the rummaging in the other room. She hadn't anticipated Don taking that long with the lightbulb, but to her surprise, he came back with more than that in his hands. The garbage can from the kitchen in one, the broom, dustpan and light bulb in the other.

"Don, what are you doing?"

Laying down the broom and dustpan on the floor near the lamp, he asked, "Do you trust me?" When Liz nodded, Don handed her the lightbulb before looking back at her couch. "How attached are you to that couch?"

She scoffed, as she was surprised that the couch was still functional. "I'm not overly attached to anything in this room."

"Good," he replied. "Can you replace the lightbulb in that lamp?"

Liz stared at Don, her eyebrow slowly raising, but when he grabbed the broom to start cleaning up an area on the floor, she obliged him. Assuming he wanted the light on, she plugged it back in and clicked it on. Turning around, she saw Don leaning over to dispose of the broken glass into the garbage.

She waited silently for a few minutes while he moved the broom and dustpan aside. Tempted to ask again what he was doing, instead she watched as he grabbed two couch cushions and put them on the floor by the lamp.

He then grabbed the takeout bags on the floor and began unpacking the food. "Now I'm hoping I got all of your favourites," he said. "I could only base it on your calls that you made from the Post Office, so if any of this food is Tom's favourite, feel free to throw it as far away as possible."

"Don, I…" Part of Liz wanted to feel flattered by the fact that Don had remembered her favourites based on the odd phone call, but the majority of her was focused on the fact that this set-up was _very _familiar. The strangest part was that Don seemed to know that.

"This is going to sound crazy, but tonight… we're creating a better memory." He had remembered what Liz had told him about coming home to Tom sitting on the floor with this lamp and how that night had gone a long way to repair their marriage.

Tonight, Ressler was hoping to apply the same method to allow Liz to repair her self-confidence, even if he didn't trust the floor enough to sit on it without the couch cushion below him.

When Liz still hesitated, he stopped digging into the food to look at her. "Baby steps, Liz, you can do this. It's just Chinese food."

Initially, she was tempted to tell him that it wasn't that simple, but seeing him dig into the food without her, Liz wondered if he was actually right. She was so focused on letting this haunt her, on overcomplicating her recovery process, that she couldn't let go of this outside of the office.

_It's only over when you believe it is._

So Liz took a small step forward before sitting down on the other couch cushion, accepting the chopsticks that Ressler handed her and started to forget about everything else. Reddington, Tom, all of it. For now, for tonight, she was just Liz hanging out with a friend eating Chinese food.

It was a start.

**~End~**


End file.
